


Orbital Decay

by Kolivans (arka_r)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Clones, M/M, Mental Link, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Pining Zarkon (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Psychic Bond, Resurrection, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 18:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13218462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arka_r/pseuds/Kolivans
Summary: The Lion's quintessence is mirrored in its Pilot. Which means, two Paladins of the same Lion would share similar quintessence. Perhaps that's why falling for Zarkon is the easiest thing for Shiro to do.--AU where Zarkon somehow got cloned after his 'death' 10k years ago. Fornoogenesis&Galra Secret Santaevent on tumblr.





	Orbital Decay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mr_terrible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_terrible/gifts).



> i'm sorry that this is sooooooooo super late!!! i got sick for almost 3 weeks and the fic kinda got out of hand e_e

“Again", Zarkon rumbled. 

 

Shiro grunted in reply. His muscles already ached from the extortion, yet he welcomed it. Zarkon was undeniably a good teacher, a harsh one too, and Shiro felt like he learned a lot each time they sparred.

 

He watched Zarkon move, observing his weakness, though the older Black Paladin appeared to have none. Zarkon’s stance was solid. On his right hand was an energy shield, while his left hand was gripping the Black Bayard. Currently, it took the form of a whip-sword; good at defense, even better at offense.

 

Zarkon’s right shoulder slouched slightly as he circled around, stalking like a predator to its prey. An obvious bait, one that Shiro knew not to take.

 

So he dove low and attacked from beneath, using his smaller height to his advantage like Zarkon taught him to. Zarkon seemed to expect it, dodging to the side and his bayard making a wide arch. He was  _ fast _ , and Shiro barely had time to raise his own shield so he wouldn’t get cut. 

 

Zarkon continued on his onslaught, striking down to Shiro’s energy shield repeatedly and trying to find an opening. Shiro could feel the muscle on his arms  _ burned _ from the sheer force of the blows. It took all of his efforts to simply hold on.

 

Like all Galra that Shiro met (and fought), Zarkon was incredibly strong. Their difference in strength definitely showed when they came to blows. Not to mention that Zarkon never held back during sparring. Apparently, he believed that if you got hurt in training session, you would die in battle. 

 

Eventually, his arm slackened, and his shield was knocked to the side. Shiro was almost sure that his wrist got sprained. 

 

“That’s enough for now”, Zarkon said, his bayard reverting back to its original form.

 

“Tired already, old man?” Shiro grinned as he straightened up.

 

“Cheeky.” Zarkon rolled his eyes. “Show me your wrist.”

 

Right. Of course Zarkon would notice. Obediently, Shiro offered his arm. Zarkon took it gingerly and inspected it, mindful of his claws.

 

This close, Shiro could smell Zarkon’s scent; something musky and warm-smelling that Shiro couldn't quite put his fingers on it. His  _ pheromone _ , Zarkon explained once. It warmed Shiro from the inside like a cup of nice hot cocoa; a funny comparison, but honestly Shiro couldn’t describe it better than that. 

 

Not for the first time, Shiro wondered if the pheromone was able to affect him, a Human.

 

“Nothing seems to be broken", Zarkon’s voice broke through his musing. “Impressive, considering how frail Human bones are compared to Galran bones. Though you might want to use your bionic arm to hold your shield next time.”

 

Shiro’s face heated up as he pulled his hand away. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind. At least we don’t take forever to heal from broken bones.”

 

“I’ll take my bone density over fast recovery”, Zarkon rumbled. “Are you alright? You seem a little bit flushed.”

 

Shiro’s stomach made a funny flip. “I’m fine”, he muttered. “I’m gonna get some ice for this.”

 

Without waiting for Zarkon’s answer, Shiro left the training deck, feeling like a thousand butterflies fluttering inside his stomach.

 

Honestly, he never quite understood the metaphor. How could one know how having butterflies in their stomach feel? If Shiro wanted to make an analogy, he thought the feeling was similar to riding a roller coaster. Like free-falling one second and soaring up the sky the next. Like  _ flying _ .

 

And it wasn’t like he was blind of his own feeling—he  _ knew _ that he was having a crush on Zarkon. Stupid, illogical crush, that was better to be crushed under his heels before it grew uncontrollably. He  _ knew _ that this crush would lead to inevitable heartbreak. 

 

But it felt as if he was slaying a hydra—cut off one head, three more grew.

 

He rested his forehead on the wall above the sink as icy water ran over his sprained wrist. The cool water was refreshing. He sighed, eyes falling shut as he exercised the meditation technique that Zarkon taught him a few weeks ago.

 

“Hey, man.” A voice interrupted his thought. Shiro opened his eyes and turned; Hunk was standing behind him, concern clear on his face.

 

“What’s up, Hunk?” Shiro asked as he continued to run cold water over his wrist.

 

“You’re— _ Oh my gosh _ , that looks awful!” Hunk grabbed Shiro’s left hand and turned it over.

 

Hunk was right; his wrist might not be broken, but it still bruised like hell. Dark purplish splotches began to form on Shiro’s skin, an ugly contrast to his pale coloring. He was pretty sure that it was swollen too.

 

“I’m fine, it’s just a sprain”, he said. “I was training with Zarkon.”

 

Zarkon was right, he really should have used his bionic arm instead of his normal arm. But then again, he relied on his bionic arm for more than a year. After getting his  _ own _ bayard back, he forgot that he didn’t have to anymore. It would take time and a lot of work to adjust.

 

Things seemed to happen really fast lately, and making adjustment was… hard. Shiro didn’t know if he was the only one who struggled with it. It made him feel  inadequate. Wasn’t he supposed to be the decisive leader of Voltron? Wasn’t he supposed to be adaptable?

 

“You know”, Hunk piped up, pulling Shiro out of his musing. He was currently fussing over Shiro’s swollen wrist, placing a bag of frozen water packet over it. “You spent an awfully lot time with Zarkon.”

 

_ This again. _ Shiro sighed. “He’s teaching me how to be a better Black Paladin. That’s it, nothing personal.”

 

“Hey, I’m not insinuating anything. Just, y’know.” Hunk scratched the back of his head. “Sure, the guy  _ was _ the Black Paladin for, I dunno. One hundred years? Two hundred? But he  _ did _ go to the dark side. Are you sure you can, like. Trust his guidance or something?”

 

Shiro rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried not to groan. “We’ve been over this, Hunk. This Zarkon is not the same as Bad-Zarkon.”

 

And that was… still weird as hell. 

 

Apparently, Zarkon died ten thousand years ago, before the destruction of Altea. That was another story that the Alteans knew but chose not to tell the new Paladins about it .

 

Sometimes, Shiro wondered if they could actually trust the Alteans anymore, with how much they lied to them, but that was another subject that he didn’t want to poke as for now.

 

Zarkon told them all the whole story, and Coran corroborated it. Zarkon went into the rift and died from quintessence overexposure. What Coran was not aware, however, somehow in the process, Zarkon’s essence was torn into two pieces right before his death. The first piece was brought back to Altea to be buried after Galran home-planet was destroyed.

 

But the Paladins of Old were not aware about the second piece.

 

For ten thousand years, the second piece of Zarkon’s essence was preserved in perfect stasis on what used to be Galran home-planet. While the first Zarkon succumbed into anger, grief, vengeance, and greed that was cumulated over the millennia, the second one still retained his personalities from before his death ten thousand years ago.

 

Like, yeah, the second Zarkon was not a perfectly good person. For awhile, he resented Shiro for taking his position as the Black Paladin and was incredibly critical of the new Paladins, who he deemed unworthy of their titles. He didn’t trust Coran and Allura (though somewhat, he still seemed fond of her), and insulted some Half-Galran members of the Blade of Marmora.

 

Yet, at the same time, he was also not some evil monster hell bent on destroying the Universe either. He realized that he had done a lot of mistakes before his death and was willing to work together with Voltron to fix it. 

 

Over the time, Zarkon was resigned to the fact that he wasn’t getting the Black Lion back. He started to teach Shiro and the new Paladins about how to better bond with their Lions. He worked together with Coran to repair the Castle and once called Allura ‘Star-Blossom’, which he insisted a slip of tongue. Under his stern exterior, he was playful and sarcastic, and Shiro was eighty-percent sure that he and Kolivan developed a weird rivalry that was so ridiculously similar to Keith and Lance’s.

 

And then there was a matter of their shared bond with the Black Lion.

 

Because the second Zarkon was technically not a clone but a part of the original Zarkon who died ten thousand years ago, he still retained a link to the Black Lion. The bond never went away, but after the Black Lion severed his bond to the first Zarkon, his bond with the second Zarkon was somehow weaker than Shiro’s bond.

 

Still, the three of them were connected in a mental link. They could sense each other’s emotions, thoughts, and dreams to some degree. This resulted to… some interesting complications. They did  _ not  _ talk about that time Shiro having an old Daibazaal ad jingle stuck inside his head for  _ three days straight _ . 

 

It helped to build some foundations of trust between Shiro and Zarkon. The bond, not the… complications. Shiro  _ knew _ what was inside Zarkon’s head; he  _ trusted _ Zarkon.

 

“Uh, yeah? They kind of are?” Hunk pointed out. “They both are like, two halves of the same coin. Two peas in a pod. Two—”

 

“Yes, I get it”, Shiro interrupted. “This Zarkon is capable of doing what Bad-Zarkon did. But he’s also capable of doing good things too. Remember the battle at Zarkon’s ship?”

 

Where Zarkon went with Allura, Kolivan, and Antok to destroy Komar, risking his own life to protect Antok from Haggar.  _ Antok _ , the Half-Galra that he insulted because he didn’t think Antok was Galran enough. Zarkon was in a healing pod for five days.

 

Hunk still didn’t look satisfied.

 

“Look, even if you don’t trust him, can you at least trust me or the Black Lion?” Shiro sighed. “We both know that he’s good. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

 

Hunk stood up. “I just wanna say, if this blows up in our collective faces, I reserve the right to tell you and the Black Lion ‘I told you so’.”

 

—

 

Sometimes, when Shiro found himself unable to sleep, he came to the Black Lion’s hangar.

 

He wasn’t surprised to find Zarkon there, reading a datapad at the base of Black’s front paw (?). Galra were apparently crepuscular creature, so it didn’t surprise him that Zarkon was still awake.

 

“What are you reading?” Shiro asked as he approached Zarkon, hands inside his pocket as he tried to be casual. He knew that Zarkon had been reading a lot of historical texts, provided by Kolivan and the Blades. He was trying to catch up to important events that happened in the last ten thousand years. He was unlike Allura or Coran, in that part.

 

“Something about Zaiphirium Siege.” Zarkon looked up slightly, before scooting over to allow Shiro to sit next to him. His expression was pulled into a grimace. Whatever he was reading seemed to disturb him very much.

 

Shiro tried to peer at the datapad, though of course he couldn’t read any of it as the text was in Galran. “What’s that?” he asked.

 

“It’s… something that my counterpart did to conquer at least fifty percent of his Empire today. He gained so much control in the relatively short duration… but also lost so much.” Zarkon’s face twisted into a snarl, and Shiro could feel pure anger radiating from him. “Not that he  _ cares  _ about that, obviously.”

 

Oh. Shiro didn’t know about that; and he doubted Allura or Coran knew either. 

 

Almost immediately, Shiro remembered something that Sagan once said, about how aggressive civilizations would destroy themselves. It was easy for them all to dismiss that the Galra people also suffered under Zarkon’s tyranny. Sure, they had privileges of being born as the race of conquerors—but he imagined it would be easy for Zarkon to rip that privilege away from those who did even the slightest thing to displease him. The Blade of Marmora was proof to that.

 

“I still can’t believe we lost Loria…” Zarkon whispered wistfully.

 

“What’s Loria?” Shiro asked again.

 

“Loria is— _ was _ one of the nations under the Galra Empire ten thousand years ago. Lorian Galra were ancient seafarers, and later pioneered the spacefaring era”, Zarkon answered. There was a distant look on his eyes; no doubt, he was thinking back of the time long gone. “They were the best and bravest spacefarers, loved the stars more than anyone else. They were peaceful people too, very against all interstellar conflict. I am now ashamed to admit that I used to resent them…”

 

_ Oh _ . Which meant, there was a huge chance that Bad-Zarkon was the one who destroyed them.

 

Not for the first time, Shiro lamented just how much that he and his team didn’t know about this war. Of course, he knew what happened to Balmera, Olkari, Taujeer, and all planets and species that they encountered and dealt with personally. But other than that? Nothing.

 

He didn’t know which planets and species that were already lost to Zarkon’s genocidal rampage, except maybe Altea. He didn’t know how much Galra that Zarkon killed to shape his Empire the way he wanted it. He even never gave any thought about it, or showed any interest to learn about it. Sure, knowing about it wouldn’t change anything. But he was supposed to be the Defender of the Universe; shouldn’t he at least be aware of those who were already gone?

 

The Blade of Marmora probably—no,  _ definitely _ knew something. But then again, they were extremely tight-lipped about things that were not mission-related. Probably because of that ‘Knowledge or Death’ thing.

 

But Zarkon was here and he was still learning. Maybe he could teach Shiro? Or even better—they could learn together.

 

“Can you tell me more?”

 

Zarkon, of course, was very happy to teach him.

 

That was how Shiro and Zarkon began to study Galran language together. Apparently, the language had evolved so much that even Zarkon could barely understand anything without the help of his translator. It made sense, Shiro thought. The use of language had always been changing. It was a miracle that Zarkon’s translator still could understand it.

 

Kolivan was quite helpful whenever they could. The Blade Leader was perfectly fluent in current Standard Galran, as well as at least five hundred dialects. The sheer amount made Shiro’s eyes pop. There was  _ no way _ he could learn all of them.

 

“Well, back in the day I had to be fluent in all spoken Galran language to speak with the delegates. All six hundred and seventy three dialects”, Zarkon boasted, arms crossed. Shiro smiled, but rolled his eyes fondly. 

 

Kolivan titled their head, before opening their mouth. “ _ Pu’a tu? Ni’va e paka-paka hakko, na? _ ”

 

Whatever Kolivan said, the translator didn’t quite catch it. But when Shiro turned to see if Zarkon understood it, the older Black Paladin had the look of utter  _ shock _ on his face.

 

“You speak  _ Lorian?! _ ” he shouted.

 

Kolivan shrugged. “I can’t let my culture die. My ancestors came from Nake’a Tribe and I’m their last descendant.”

 

Zarkon’s expression turned wistful. Shiro could feel nostalgia coming from him. “The Sea Tribe… The Chief, Jovastri, gave me and Honerva a pair of  _ tel’tsokari _ daggers made from  _ kokonoka _ fang as wedding gift.”

 

An image flashed through the bond; two matching daggers carved with beautiful geometrical patterns. Like everything else that Zarkon owned, they were probably lost when Daibazaal was destroyed. 

 

_ Or maybe not _ , Shiro mused. 

 

—

 

Shiro knew he was dreaming.

 

Vague images flashed like broken video being fast-forwarded, all glitchy and weird, though all of them had flashes of purple lights. The tractor beam that took him off Kerberos. The eerie glow of quintessence. Sendak’s prosthesis. Zarkon’s eyes.

 

The last one made him shake down to his core. It was Zarkon,  _ his _ Zarkon. The one who made face at Hunk’s experimental cooking, who laughed at Antok’s joke until his shoulders shook, who lifted Pidge over his shoulders when she couldn’t reach the vents.  _ His Zarkon _ , who taught him how to read Galran letters and speak Galran languages, who scolded him when he made a mistake in a spar yet fussed over him when he was hurt.

 

The one who Shiro had fallen so terribly and unwaveringly.

 

Zarkon came after him, laughing cruelly and mocking his weakness. Shiro sobbed and screamed and ran until his legs ached and his lungs burned and he fell, fell, fell—

 

— and landed in a dark, open space, with stars glittering like tears, like diamonds, and Zarkon was waiting for him there.

 

“Shiro!” he called.

 

Shiro turned and ran.

 

“Shiro, wait!” Zarkon called again. There was desperation in his voice that made Shiro pause and turn.

 

This Zarkon was  _ his _ Zarkon, with warm red eyes and golden sclerae. This Zarkon didn’t have glowing purple eyes. This Zarkon had concern and regret marring his face, and Shiro could feel something like sadness thrum through their bond.

 

“ … Zarkon?” Shiro called, hesitant. “Is that… you?”

 

“It’s me.” Zarkon nodded as he moved closer to Shiro. He made himself as non-threatening as possible, Shiro noted, with strong shoulders hunched forward and arms half-raised in surrender. “I’m not him. I’m not my counterpart.”

 

Obviously, Shiro thought. He shut his eyes and let Zarkon enveloping him in warm reassurance. A rumbling purr made him open his eyes; the Black Lion was there too.

 

‘There’ was the astral plane, Shiro realized belatedly. He recognized the place from his fight with Bad-Zarkon a few months ago. Things were different now; he was safe. Zarkon was not his evil counterpart and he wasn’t wearing scary armor and cape that his counterpart wore.

 

Instead, he wore loose sleeping robe that Shiro recognized as the Paladin’s sleeping robe, complete with— “The Lion slippers?”

 

Zarkon looked down to his feet and, yes, he was wearing the Black Lion slippers big enough for his huge Galran feet. The whole ensemble was absolutely ridiculous, that Shiro couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“They’re very comfortable”, Zarkon argued. He sounded indignant.

 

“I guess.” Shiro never tried the robe or the slippers; especially once he knew that Zarkon used to be the Black Paladin, the idea of wearing the same clothes that Zarkon used to wear disturbed him. It was bad enough to know that he had been wearing Zarkon’s armor.

 

But seeing Zarkon,  _ his _ Zarkon, wear them… it made him feel better about the clothes, at least.

 

They sat where the Black Lion was lying on his back. How the giant mechanical cat managed to do it with a pair of wings on his back, Shiro had no idea. Astral plane logic, probably. It made him look like an oversized house cat instead of a murder machine that he actually is.

 

“Did you pull me here?” Shiro asked, once they settled down.

 

Zarkon shook his head. “Black Lion did. I… sensed that you were having a nightmare, so asked his help.”

 

Well… That wasn’t the first one it happened—he had been having nightmares a lot more than he could count. But it was definitely the first time that someone actually pulled him out of his nightmare. Literally.

 

“You don’t seem confused with the astral plane”, Zarkon said after a brief moment of silence.

 

Shiro gave him a shrug. “I’ve been here before.”

 

What he didn’t say—what both of them  _ mutually  _ understood—was the fact that Bad-Zarkon was connected to that particular event.

 

Now that he wasn’t fighting for his life, Shiro could actually admire the astral plane. The place was amazing, hauntingly  _ ethereal _ ; the sky was darker than black, so dark that Shiro felt that it absorbed all light. Yet, against all odds, the stars glimmered beautifully, outshining the void-like blackness.

 

There was a comfortable silence that hung between them, only filled by the Black Lion’s purr. Shiro’s shoulder touched Zarkon’s side and the physical contact was comforting. Grounding. Shiro took a deep breath and began to relax.

 

— 

 

“Again”, Zarkon rumbled.

 

Shiro quickly got up to his feet, using his bayard-halberd as leverage, before taking another stance. This halberd-form of his bayard was new, and Shiro was still trying to get used to it. 

 

Apparently, the black bayard could take any shape that the wearer wanted. As the head of Voltron, Shiro as the Black Paladin had to be adaptable, so Zarkon had been teaching him to use various weapons. Shiro’s first form was a sword. The halberd was his second form.

 

The halberd’s weight and balance felt different. A little bit off. Not to mention that it required two hands to hold, unlike the one-handed sword. It had longer range than the sword too, and sometimes Shiro found himself underestimating its length.

 

Zarkon’s bayard took the form of a glaive. Its blade was bigger than Shiro’s halberd; the perfect option for Zarkon’s more superior strength. The tip was thankfully blunt, but Shiro swore he could feel bruises started to form all over his body, even through his armor.

 

Shiro learned that when fighting Zarkon, it was best to dodge and wait for an opening to strike. Zarkon was surprisingly agile for someone his size, which was very unfair, in Shiro’s opinion. But Shiro was getting better at dodging lately.

 

Still, Zarkon eventually managed to knock him down. Shiro laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, still dazed.

 

“Again”, Zarkon rumbled.

 

Shiro was spared when the door swished open. Zarkon’s ears perked up as he turned to the door, while Shiro rose to his elbow.

 

Kolivan walked into the training deck with their hands behind their back. They were not wearing their mask, so Shiro could feel the weight of their gaze as they stared at him in apprehension.

 

“Zarkon”, they inclined their head slightly. “May we speak?”

 

“I’m currently training my protégé”, Zarkon replied carelessly. “As you may see. I am sure you understand how important Shiro’s training is.”

 

Kolivan merely spared Shiro a quick glance, before sighing. “This is about your past life.”

 

That changed Zarkon’s demeanor so fast Shiro almost got a whiplash. He gripped his bayard tighter, and Shiro could feel intense grief thrum through their bond.

 

“We’ll continue again later, Shiro”, Zarkon said as he helped him up. Shiro gave a nod, but Zarkon stopped him when he was about to leave the training deck. “And by the stars, please, use the healing pod. You’re  _ limping _ .”

 

There was concern piercing through the grief, and it made Shiro feel… flattered, he guessed. Zarkon was clearly not feeling great, but he was still concerned for Shiro’s wellbeing.

 

He sent warm reassurance through the bond and asked the Black Lion to do the same. He could feel gratitude coming from Zarkon’s end, but not for long.

 

— 

 

“Shiro, are you okay?”

 

Shiro snapped his eyes up and saw Keith’s concerned face hovering in his line of vision. When he turned, he saw that the team plus Allura, Coran,Kolivan, and Antok were staring at him with varying level of concern.

 

Right. He was zoning out in the middle of a debriefing.

 

Forcing a smile, he turned back to Keith. “I’m fine. It’s just…”

 

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

 

Something was bothering Zarkon so much that he was  _ flashing back _ . He was having a vision of his ‘death’, so strong and vivid through their shared bond that Shiro felt like it was his own memory. It was as if his body was torn to shreds by dark, incorporeal fingers. It sank into his flesh like hungry beasts and burned him with lights so bright it pierced through his eyelids.

 

Shiro shuddered, before turning to Zarkon. The older Black Paladin stood by the wall; he didn’t look outwardly disturbed, just a downturn of his lips as if he was tasting something sour.

 

Shiro didn’t want to call attention to him, not in front of so many people, so he merely brushed his mental fingers through the bond and sent reassuring images. It worked, it seemed; Zarkon looked up and his eyes immediately went to find Shiro, looking lost and distraught.

 

It broke Shiro’s heart to see someone so powerful crumbled like that.

 

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked as soon as the meeting was adjourned. Zarkon had his back against the wall, his shoulders hunched. He looked like he was one blink away from breaking down, so the question was clearly redundant.

 

“I should’ve stayed  _ dead _ .”

 

Something cold and heavy sank into Shiro’s stomach, and before he could stop it, the memory of Zarkon’s death was replayed once again. Zarkon turned his head to him, grimacing.

 

“My apologies. You shouldn't have seen that.”

 

“It’s—” Shiro hesitated. Saying it was okay would be a lie, so he refrained. “Humans have a saying that ‘joy shared is doubled, grief shared is halved.”

 

That seemed to break Zarkon out of whatever funk he was in. A small happy trill escaped him. “Galra also have something something similar.”

 

Right. Of course it was an Universal thing. 

 

“But why would you want to share my grief? I saw your nightmares, I saw what I did to you.” Zarkon turned away.

 

“What  _ your counterpart _ did”, Shiro corrected. “You're not him. You two are different. Trust me, I know.”

 

“What’s the difference? I am him and he is I.” Zarkon’s voice turned bitter. “I know what I am capable of. I… Alfor destroyed my planet— _ our _ planet. If I wasn’t kept in stasis, I too would do what  _ he  _ did.”

 

Shiro swallowed thickly. This was more difficult than he thought.

 

“I also know what you’re capable of. Your counterpart won’t risk his life to save others.” No, that wasn’t right either. After all, the original Zarkon died to bring his wife back to life. “My point is, you two chose to act differently. Your counterpart is capable of doing good, but he chose not to.”

 

“Maybe you’re also capable of doing great evil. Maybe you think you will do it, under different circumstances. But right now, in this circumstance, you're not doing it. I think… that’s what makes you two different.”

 

Zarkon looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but Shiro wouldn’t give up on this.

 

He  _ really _ believed that people could decide to be a good person or a bad person. No, that wasn’t right either—people could decide to do something and realize that their actions have consequence. 

 

The Blade of Marmora could choose to join the Empire military instead of opposing them, but they didn’t. Their collective actions and sacrifices brought them all to this point. 

 

Allura could choose to wallow in her grief and not doing anything— and she had every  _ right _ to do so, as she just lost her planet and everything that she held dear. But she didn’t, and instead she chose to weaponize her grief. Her strength and endurance too had consequences. Without her, Voltron wouldn’t exist.

 

The Galra Empire remade Shiro, made him into a weapon. They made him  _ kill _ for them, in the arena. He  _ needed _ to believe that, instead, he could do better, be a better person. That he could help those who were weak and oppressed.

 

“You are really wise beyond your years…” Zarkon said, his voice soft. “I wish I could help more, do something  _ more _ , but…”

 

“Hey, you’re already helping with training us to be better Paladins.” Shiro gave Zarkon’s elbow a quick pat. He wished he was tall enough to reach Zarkon’s shoulder.

 

Zarkon smiled at him and made pleased rumble, though Shiro could tell that something was still bothering him.

 

As they walked to the training deck together, Shiro wondered what Kolivan said to Zarkon. The older Black Paladin’s emotions were still whirling up a storm, though his thoughts were vague. Shiro was itching to ask what was wrong, how could he help. But he didn’t know how to bring it up.

 

“I’ve been thinking”, Zarkon said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung between them. “I’ve been thinking to join the Blade of Marmora.”

 

Immediately, Shiro snapped his head up, disappointment blooming in his chest. “Then, you’re not going to teach me anymore?”

 

“I will still do that, you don’t have to worry.” Zarkon gave his shoulder a light bump. “But I… I’ve been reading about how the Empire, how  _ he _ used my—Honerva’s quintessence research for things like sucking life out of  _ planets _ and I… I cannot let it happen anymore.”

 

He clenched his fist, shaking from righteous anger. Images of a beautiful woman with warm golden eyes flashed through the bond briefly— _ Honerva _ , the name came easily to Shiro. The woman who Zarkon loved so much, he gave his life trying to save hers. 

 

“Honerva… She dedicated her  _ life _ to make the Galra Empire a better place for everyone. She used her knowledge to build better, faster ships to connect our colonies. That  _ he _ used it for heinous purposes… this isn’t what Honerva would’ve wanted.”

 

Shiro might’ve never known about her; Coran and Allura never showed any indication that they knew her. But he could feel Zarkon’s love and sheer devotion to his late wife, now dead for ten thousand years and yet he still loved him with unrivaled intensity.

 

How could Shiro possibly compete with her?

 

_ He couldn’t. _

 

But he  _ could _ help Zarkon to the best of his ability.

 

“We’ll stop him”, Shiro said. “We stopped him once. We’ll stop him the second time  _ for good _ .”

 

Zarkon opened his mouth, but paused on the last moment. He didn’t need to say anything, because Shiro could feel gratitude and affection coming from him.

 

“But… do you really have to go with the Blade of Marmora?” He knew that Zarkon was an experienced fighter, but he couldn’t help but worry.

 

“Perhaps I… shouldn’t have told you this, but the Blade of Marmora is gathering intel about quintessence research within the Empire”, Zarkon sighed, scratching his cheek meekly, before his face turned serious once again. “I feel like I could stop them from misusing Honerva’s work. Or at least… destroy the research facilities so they would never use her work ever again.”

 

He sounded very determined, and that was when Shiro knew that there was no way he could change Zarkon’s mind. 

 

“Well… I don’t have control over you. Just… be careful, okay?” he reluctantly said.

 

Zarkon offered him a gentle smile. “Of course.”

 

—

 

The mission went smoothly and easily, in Shiro’s opinion. Maybe way too easy. He didn’t want to jinx it just yet, but somehow he could feel that shit would hit the fan soon.

 

The Paladins and the Blade of Marmora were going to liberate a planet. It was one of the bigger colony, it seemed, with mines and factories of some kind. By taking it over from the Empire’s hand, they could cut off supply for the entire quadrant while also freeing the slaves and prisoners. Due to the sheer amount of the colony, they took  _ all  _ Lions to provide firepower for the Blade of Marmora.

 

Lance would use the sonic cannon to map out the intricate tunnels of the mine, while Hunk and a couple Blade fighters would go inside free the slaves. Pidge and a Blade member named Regris would hack into their database to and grab some important intel about other prisons and labor camps.

 

Shiro and Keith would go to the factories. The Red Lion’s destructive firepower was probably overkill enough to destroy the entire block, but Shiro had to take Kolivan and a few Blade agents to get some intel first.

 

First indication that shit was about to hit the fan: they were  _ not  _ expecting this particular factory to have a quintessence refinery inside it. 

 

Second indication: according to Keith and Kolivan, all quintessence refineries were  _ always  _ guarded by  _ at least _ one Druid. However, this refinery seemed to be completely unguarded.

 

Kolivan and three of their agents went to separate ways ten  _ doboshes _ ago; leaving Zarkon, Shiro, and Antok to find the communication room. That was when they stumbled upon the refinery. 

 

Zarkon went  _ ballistic _ at the rows upon rows of glowing refined quintessence-in-a-jar on the shelves.

 

“ _ This _ —How many worlds  _ he _ destroyed to get such vast amount of quintessence?!” he shouted. His hand gripped his whip-sword tighter; and in that moment, Shiro understood what he was about to do. They were going to destroy all these jars and left the Empire with  _ nothing _ .

 

When Zarkon raised his hand, Shiro caught movement in his peripheral vision. It wasn’t the Druid— but  _ Haggar _ .

 

Haggar also had her hand raised, a dark bolt charging on her open palm. Without even thinking twice, Shiro shoved Zarkon out of the way.

 

The bolt ripped through his armor and burned his flesh. It was only a graze, but he could see the familiar glowing wound starting to spread like sick-looking circuitry. Dimly, he heard Zarkon roaring as the older Black Paladin charged toward Haggar in a protective rage. His bayard transformed into a mace, and he avoided her blasts with uncanny agility. With the force of a charging bull, he sent her flying in a swing.

 

She hit the wall with a sickening crack. When she rose, her hood had fallen away from her face, showing a sharp, angular face with white hair spilling like curtains. There was red markings running down her face— _ Altean _ markings.

 

“… Honerva?” Zarkon’s voice broke.

 

Haggar didn’t hesitate and aimed a dark bolt straight into Zarkon’s chest. Almost like in a slow-mo, Shiro could only watch as Zarkon’s body fell.

 

Black Lion’s anger nearly blindsided him, drowning him. The Lion’s presence melded with his own; man and machine, moving in perfect unison. When he roared, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or Black’s. When Black burst into the room, he couldn’t tell if it was his hand or Black’s who crushed the ground where Haggar stood.

 

Three Druids materialized out of the shadows, their palms charging with dark bolts. Something slashed through one of them—Kolivan had entered the battle and thrown their blade with deadly accuracy. The Druid exploded in bright, violent light, and Kolivan rushed forward, catching their blade back.

 

“Go!” they ordered, and Shiro didn’t wait twice. As if receiving a surge of strength, he dragged Zarkon’s limp body back into the Black Lion’s cockpit. The door shut behind him and the Black Lion moved out without even being piloted.

 

“Shiro, what’s wrong? Kolivan ordered an extraction just now.” Keith’s face popped on the screen.

 

“Zarkon got hit. I need to—Keith—”

 

Keith’s face steeled. “ _ Go _ . We can handle the rest.”

 

He laid Zarkon’s body on the cockpit floor and examined his injury. His Blade armor had  _ mostly _ protected him from the blast. Even better, he was still breathing, even if raggedly. But still, there was so much blood leaking out of the hole on his chest that Shiro wasn’t sure he could heal.

 

“Please…” To whom he begged, he wasn’t sure. Tears streamed down his face as he gently cradled Zarkon’s still face. “Please…”

 

Shiro could feel when the Bladed Wings unfurled and the Black Lion moved even faster, phasing through moons and planets. Black Lion rumbled, trying to be reassuring, but even Shiro could feel worry thrumming in every inch of his being, pressing down onto him like increased gravity.

 

They reached the Castle of Lion, which was waiting for them one solar system away. Even before Black touched down on the hangar, Shiro slung one of Zarkon’s arm over his shoulder and limped to the door. Coran was, thankfully, already waiting for them there with an anti-grav gurney.

 

“Let me”, Coran said, as he shapeshifted himself bigger. He took Zarkon from Shiro’s arm and gently laid him on the gurney, before rushing towards the medbay, where Allura was preparing two healing pods.

 

As Zarkon’s pod hissed shut, Shiro felt a hand touching his shoulder. He turned, and saw Allura standing behind him. Her eyes were wet from unshed tears, but her face was resolute. “You too, Shiro.”

 

“I—”

 

“If you’re going to say ‘I’m fine’, well… you are  _ clearly _ not fine.” She sighed. “Please. H-he would want you to take care after yourself.”

 

Her voice was heavy with grief, and it took Shiro a few moment to realize that they were close, once upon a time; close enough for Zarkon to give her a nickname. She  _ knew  _ him. She was worried about him. She lost him once, then lost her entire planet and civilization. And now she was one trigger away from losing him again.

 

More than that, she was worried about Shiro too.

 

Weakly, Shiro nodded and allowed Coran to guide him into the pod. Just before the lid hissed shut, Shiro turned to see Zarkon one last time.

 

_ He looked peaceful _ , was his last thought.  _ Like he was asleep. _

 

—

 

Shiro hated the healing pod with all his guts.

 

He came out of the pod first, and that was  _ yesterday _ . Yet Zarkon still wasn’t awake.

 

Shiro was starting to get antsy. He knew he was being ridiculous. The last time Zarkon was in the pod, it took him three days to recover; and his wound back then was not as fatal as this one i twas only natural that he would spend more time to recover. 

 

Coran suggested that he should rest some more, especially since he was still having a case of ‘healing pod knees’, as Coran called it, though it felt more like sluggishness all over his body. But the team waited until he came out of the pod to hold a debrief, and they wouldn’t wait any longer as there was a very important matter to address ASAP.

 

“You  _ knew _ that Haggar is Altean?!” Shiro shouted to Allura.

 

“I… Yes, but so many things happened in that battle. Kolivan, Antok, and Zarkon were injured while I somehow found a hidden power. It was a very hectic situation and I… it slipped my mind afterwards. I’m sorry”, Allura bowed her head.

 

She sounded very sincere that Shiro felt bad immediately. He turned his eyes from her and crossed his arms.

 

“I do not think this new development will change anything, although it does explain a few things”, Kolivan mused. “If High Priestess Haggar is indeed Lady-Consort Honerva, it makes sense that she’s continuing her quintessence research to further Emperor Zarkon’s agenda.”

 

There was a yelp coming from Hunk. “Oh man, does this mean we have to worry about Zarky going to the dark side? Y’know, to be with his wifey again?”

 

“Man, that's gonna be the  _ creepiest _ poly relationship ever”, Lance added. “The clone part is one thing, but the evil genocidal part is another.”

 

“I dunno about you guys, but getting shot by corrupted energy blast is gonna put me off of someone forever.” That was Keith.

 

Shiro couldn’t  _ believe _ his team. He  _ couldn't _ . 

 

“ … I can’t believe we're talking about this right now", he grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

 

Coran and Kolivan looked part disturbed, part amused. Meanwhile, Allura looked just about as disturbed as how Shiro felt. 

 

She cleared her throat, before speaking. “I don’t believe we should worry about that right now. After all, he is—"

 

“Maybe we should throw him a celebration!” Pidge suggested. “Y’know, in a ‘congrats, you survived’ way once he comes out of the pod?”

 

“Bribing the guy to stay in the light side with parties and pancakes. I love it.” Hunk grinned.

 

This was getting out of control. Not that Shiro had any objection if the team decided to throw Zarkon a party. After all, not everyday you woke up from the healing pod because your wife tried to kill you. But still—

 

Shiro ignored as the team and Allura began to plan the party, turning to Coran instead. “Coran, how’s that thing I asked you a couple days ago?”

 

Coran’s ears perked up as he pulled out a holoscreen. “Right! As it turns out, King Alfor  _ did _ kept Zarkon and Honerva’s personal belongings after their death, as he planned to return them to the Galra people once they finished with rebuilding. There was no time to do that, however, especially after Emperor Zarkon declared war to Altea as soon as he was revived.”

 

“Father kept them…?” Allura raised her head. Great, now the whole team was curious too. “Where?”

 

“As a matter of fact, yes, in this castle. We moved it into the storage closet”, Coran answered.

 

“Thanks, Coran.” Shiro gave him a nod.

 

“Why are you asking about Zarkon’s personal stuff?” Hunk gave him a suspicious look.

 

A lopsided smile spread on Keith’s face, and—  _ oh no _ . Shiro knew  _ that look _ .

 

“Because Shiro has a cru— _ mmmph! _ ” Keith made angry indignant noises, as Shiro clamped his bionic hand over his mouth. But it was already too late, the damage was already done.

 

“What the _ junk?! _ ” Lance squawked. “Shiro has a  _ crush  _ on Zarkon?! But, but—since when?!  _ How?! _ ”

 

“They have been courting for awhile”, Antok hissed out a laugh. “It is very adorable.”

 

Shiro spluttered immediately. “ _ Wh _ —No, we’re not!”

 

“More like Zarkon has been courting Shiro while Shiro remained clueless.” Kolivan smiled and Shiro swore he could see the mischievous twinkle in the Galra’s eye. “I have been worried that his feelings are not reciprocated.”

 

This was absolutely crazy. Even  _ Kolivan _ was in the joke now.

 

Allura clapped her hands. “The one-on-one sparring! And Zarkon has been teaching you Galran language, has he not?”

 

“ _That_ _was_ Galran courting?!” Shiro turned to her, reeling. 

 

The team continued with their teasing for a bit, and Shiro felt like his face was being set on fire even as his head whirled with the epiphany. Did Zarkon really have a crush on him? Shiro thought the older Black Paladin still loved his not-so-late wife. More importantly, why didn’t Zarkon tell him anything?

 

“I’m gonna… think about this for a bit”, he said, before walking out of the room.

 

Dimly, he could hear Keith singing, “Shiro and Zarkon, sitting in the Black Lion, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

 

—

 

The Castle’s storage closet, as it turned out, was a whole warehouse the size of a stadium, jammed full with various alien knick-knacks. 

 

Not gonna lie, Shiro felt a little bit intimidated by the sheer size of it. He didn’t even know in which part of it the Alteans put Zarkon and Honerva’s belongings ten thousand years ago. It wasn’t like he  _ knew _ how the things looked in the first place.

 

_ Index _ , Shiro thought. They probably had an index about everything stored in here. But Shiro didn’t want to return to the common area just to find Coran. Not to mention that he had to endure the team’s good-natured teasing.

 

With a sigh, he pulled out a holoscreen from the wall and began to sift through the files, hoping that there was something that he could understand. Alas, everything was in Altean letters. While Shiro was good enough to read Galran letters, he was absolutely hopeless at deciphering Altean ones.

 

Maybe he should’ve learned Altean language with Pidge when he had the chance. Oh well, too late for that now.

 

“Try switching it to Galran.” A voice came from behind. Shiro jolted and immediately reached for his bayard; but it was only Kolivan.

 

Confused, Shiro slowly lowered his arm. “Uh.”

 

“At ease. I merely want to assist you”, Kolivan said as they approached him. They took the holoscreen from in front of Shiro and adjust it to match their own height, before tapping a few buttons. In an instant, the letters on the display changed into more familiar Galran letters.

 

Huh. He didn’t know the screen could do that. Maybe he should ask Pidge to translate it to English too so they could better access the holoscreens.

 

“You have many questions, but let’s focus on your quest now, shall we?” Kolivan turned to face him, a small smile on their lips.

 

Ah. Right. He was initially going to find Zarkon’s stuff.

 

He pulled the holoscreen back from Kolivan, before slowly sifting through the files. It took him awhile to find an entry labeled with Zarkon’s name. “According to this, it’s being kept in shelf number 002948.”

 

He and Kolivan walked deeper into the storage room as they tried to find the correct shelf. Fortunately, the air filtration system on the ship kept the room mostly clean from dust, though Shiro swore he could hear creepy chirping and rustling. Probably space bugs. He hoped they wouldn’t stumble on it.

 

“All these things… they might be useless garbage back in their time. But today, they might as well be an archaeological goldmine”, Kolivan said wistfully.

 

_ Huh _ . Shiro never thought about that. “Well… considering that Altea is long gone, then yeah, these things are probably museum-worthy.”

 

Both of them found the shelf and were astounded by the sheer amount of collections stored inside the fourth-dimensional storage. Shiro could see the whole armory of weapons and armors, all in wine-red and gold— Zarkon’s color. And that was just the tip of it.

 

“Oh.  _ My stars _ . They are mostly Oradian-made”, Kolivan muttered before they pulled a dark and gleaming spear. The way they held it, it looked like they were holding a holy grail. To them, it probably was.

 

“What’s Oradian?” Shiro asked.

 

“Oradis Kingdom, one of the largest nations back in Daibazaal”, Kolivan answered distractedly. “Their people were called Oradian Galra. There are so many academic debates if Emperor Zarkon was truly an Oradian. This will truly end those debates.”

 

Shiro blinked. “Or… you could’ve  _ asked  _ Zarkon?”

 

Kolivan turned at him, eyes wide; Shiro would  _ never _ expect to see Kolivan having deer-in-the-headlight look on their face. Apparently, Kolivan never considered that option, which was absolutely hysterical.

 

“See, this is why you two are perfect for each other.” Kolivan sighed as they continued their search. “What are we looking for, exactly?”

 

“I was thinking about important stuff. Like mementos, childhood keepsakes, family heirlooms, favorite books—I dunno, did Galra even keep those things?” Shiro asked. He wasn’t prepared in case they weren’t; then all his plans would be for nothing. 

 

“We don’t.” Kolivan hummed. Shiro felt like he just got punched, but Kolivan continued. “But seeing all these items, we probably used to.”

 

Oh. Well. That was  _ good _ .

 

They continued with their search, rummaging through the storage, only occasionally pausing when Kolivan made comments about certain artifacts. Which was, a lot. Kolivan was a certified history  _ nerd _ , and Shiro didn’t know how to process this newfound information. He wondered if Keith knew… 

 

Three hours into their search, they found  _ baby albums _ .

 

Shiro didn’t want to open it because it just didn’t feel right, poking through someone’s baby albums without said person accompanying them. Kolivan, however, had no such reservation, muttering quick ‘Knowledge or Death’ before turning on the holo-projector.

 

Shiro couldn’t deny that he was curious too.

 

Baby Zarkon was  _ the most adorable _ thing in the Universe, with the squishiest cheeks and itty bitty teeth. He was being held by someone who looked eerily like his non-zombified adult self. Probably his parent? Shiro wasn’t sure, even more when Kolivan said that the adult wore traditional Oradian noble folk clothes and not the royalty clothes.

 

Kolivan was  _ absolutely _ gleeful.

 

Shiro suggested that they continued their search, if only to protect what remained of Zarkon’s dignity. He took the albums from Kolivan’s hand and tucked it in his pocket for safekeeping, before diving into the storage once again.

 

They kept going until Shiro was too exhausted to continue. Then, Kolivan shooed him to get some rest while they finished a couple reports. Shiro thanked them and wished them good night. 

 

—

 

Zarkon woke up after a week in the healing pod. If Shiro didn’t have anything else to distract him, he probably would’ve gone mad from worry. 

 

When Coran called him through the comm, Shiro immediately left the storage and rushed to the medbay like a madman. In there, he found Coran was already helping Zarkon to sit on the steps. Zarkon lifted his eyes as Shiro entered.

 

“You’re alive.” Zarkon breathed. Relief flooded through the bond, and— _ oh _ , Shiro missed this. He offered Zarkon a small smile.

 

“Gonna take more than that to kill me.” Shiro walked towards Zarkon and sat next to him on the steps. “How are you feeling?”

 

Something flashed through the bond, though Shiro couldn’t quite put his fingers on what kind of emotions Zarkon was currently feeling. It was complicated; like grief and denial and rage, and Shiro couldn’t help but feel  _ really _ bad for Zarkon right now.

 

“I assume that wasn’t a dream”, Zarkon said, quietly. “That she… That Honerva—”

 

“Is Haggar, yeah.” Shiro gave a small nod.

 

Zarkon let a pained noise deep in his throat, burying his face in his hand. “I cannot believe… She’s not the Honerva I knew. She wouldn’t—She wouldn’t—”

 

“She would”, Shiro said, as much as he hated to say it. “And she did. She hurt so many people, on her own volition.”

 

Resignation. Zarkon’s shoulders slumped.

 

“I  _ know _ that. She wouldn’t let anyone command her. I just can’t believe it…”

 

Shiro didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it was better to let Zarkon process the whole thing, but that didn’t mean that Shiro would leave them alone.

 

_ Grief shared is halved _ , he remembered his own words from all those weeks ago.

 

—

 

“Remind me again why I am doing this”, Zarkon grumbled as Kolivan put dark sunglass over Zarkon’s eyes.

 

“Because you love me”, Kolivan answered in the flattest tone possible, before letting out a pained grunt. Zarkon had jabbed them in the stomach with deadly accuracy, even blindfolded.

 

“I can still see through Shiro’s eyes”, Zarkon huffed.

 

“That’s why I’m also wearing a blindfold”, Shiro answered cheekily, before letting Kolivan put another sunglass over his eyes, and— _ oh _ . He really couldn’t see  _ anything _ .

 

“Alright you fools, one step at a time”, Kolivan announced. 

 

Shiro could feel their firm hand nudging their back, directing them to walk down the hallway. Thanks to his bond with Zarkon, the team purposely excluded him from all the planning, so this was about as surprising to him as it was to Zarkon.

 

“Let me guess, it’s my birthday”, Zarkon said from Shiro’s left.

 

“I don’t even know when your birthday is”, Kolivan deadpanned.

 

“But it’s a national holiday! Back in Daibazaal!” Zarkon argued, sounding like it was the greatest crime to erase his own birthday from the Galran calendar.

 

“We celebrate  _ Dral’Zaivarti _ these days”, Kolivan said. “According to historical texts, it’s the day when Great Emperor Zarkon was elevated to Godhood. These days, it’s a holiday of capitalism and consumerism where you spend all your paycheck’s worth to buy gifts for colleagues and relatives you don’t even like in the first place.”

 

_ So like Galran-version of Christmas _ , Shiro mused. 

 

“What is Christmas?” Zarkon asked.

 

Shiro fed him mental images of Christmas tree and Santa Claus, laughing when he felt even more confusion coming from Zarkon.

 

“I would tell you to stop talking through your mental bond while around others, but I have a feeling that you will do it regardless out of spite”, Kolivan said again.

 

Right. Shiro didn’t even realize that Zarkon asked the question out loud.  He could hear Kolivan grumbling something under their breath, though his translator couldn’t quite catch it.

 

There was a feeling like his stomach dropping. They were in an elevator, it seemed, and they were moving up, up, up— _ the bridge _ , Shiro wondered. Dimly, he could feel that Zarkon reached the same conclusion too.

 

“We’re here”, Kolivan announced as they stopped their journey. They took Shiro’s blindfold first and it took his eyes a bit to adjust to the bright light.

 

It seemed the whole team plus a couple members of the Blade of Marmora were there. Pidge rigged a bot to project a screen written with ‘ _ Congrats, you survived _ ’ in Oradian Galran (courtesy of Kolivan), while Hunk and Coran were holding a cake in the shape of the Black Lion’s head. Shiro had no idea where did Keith, Lance, and Allura got kazoos in space; but seeing the blue glowy dots on it, he guessed they were Altean in origin.

 

So Alteans had space-kazoos. Huh. 

 

Shiro quickly joined them while Kolivan took off Zarkon’s blindfold, smiling when an utter look of surprise and delight slowly spread over the older Black Paladin’s face.

 

“Surprise!” the Paladins plus Allura and Coran shouted. 

 

Zarkon was still quiet as if he was trying to take everything in, his face stuck in half-smile.

 

Then, his mouth began to wobble.

 

“Oh no, you don’t get to cry”, Shiro rushed back to Zarkon’s side, his hand touching Zarkon’s shaking frame. The Galra couldn’t shed tears when they cried, as Shiro learned, so their shoulders shook instead.

 

“I… This is…” Zarkon was absolutely speechless as he covered his mouth with his hand.

 

“There, there, old friend.” Coran approached Zarkon and gave his elbow quick pats. “This looks like the old time, isn’t it?”

 

Shiro wanted to smack his own forehead—they weren’t  _ supposed _ to touch the subject about Zarkon’s past. But Zarkon, as it seemed, disagreed. His smile grew even wider.

 

“Yes. Gods,  _ yes _ ”, Zarkon laughed. “Then Alfor and Blaytz would have a drinking match.”

 

“And Trigel would outdrink all of you combined”, Coran chuckled. When his laughter died, Shiro could see his eyes glazing with unshed tears. “I’m very glad you survived. That last mission, it was… I cannot lose another friend.”

 

Zarkon pulled Coran into a hug. The Paladins clapped while Hunk let out a quiet ‘ _ aww _ ’. Once he was done trying to squeeze the life out of Coran’s smaller frame, Allura approached him next and hugged him.

 

“I’m also glad that you survived,  _ Maa’ko _ ”, she said, as tears beginning to stream down her face. “I thought I was going to lose you again.”

 

“Worry not, Star-Blossom. I’m not going anywhere”, Zarkon smiled at her and hugged her tighter. “Now wipe that tears of yours. You are much more radiant when you smile.”

 

That only made Allura cry even harder, though she was also smiling. She released the hug and wiped the tears from her eyes, going in for another quick hug, before going back to join Coran.

 

Keith approached Zarkon next, followed by the rest of the Paladins. “Antok told us what happened in there. Thanks for saving Shiro.”

 

“Yeah,  _ man _ , but you really should knock it off with the self-sacrificing thing! This is like, what, the second time?” Hunk scolded, all while pulling Zarkon into very tight hug. Shiro laughed seeing the surprise in Zarkon’s face.

 

“Yeah, you're just as bad as Mullet when it comes to doing reckless thing", Lance added, joining in on the hug. “I thought the Red Paladins are supposed to be the reckless ones!”

 

“Actually, that’s Shiro’s thing. You Black Paladins need to stop being self-sacrificial, or else!” Pidge threatened, her finger jabbing at Zarkon’s side before pulling him into a hug. It was totally hilarious to see Zarkon being threatened by someone half his size. Her arms couldn’t even wrap around Zarkon, Hunk, and Lance.

 

“I didn’t know that my injury caused you such distress…” Zarkon said, once he regained his composure.

 

“Of course it does!” Hunk cried out. “You’re like, very important to us! Of course we care when you got blasted right on your chest!”

 

“Group hug!” Coran exclaimed. Immediately, Zarkon was buried under the hug pile, though his head was still visible above everyone else.

 

Zarkon turned to the Blades, who looked at the hug pile with varying degree of amusement.

 

“I am not hugging you”, Kolivan said, crossing their arms.

 

“I am!” Antok jumped into the hug pile and wrapped his huge, muscled arms around everyone else, effectively squeezing them. The impact toppled them all to the floor.

 

—

 

When the party wound down a bit, Shiro noticed that Zarkon was missing.

 

Following the bond, he let it pull him to Zarkon’s direction. He wasn’t surprised to find him in the Black Lion’s hangar—he should’ve expected it, actually.

 

Zarkon’s expression was solemn as he looked up to the Black Lion, with his arms behind his back. His shoulders raised slightly; he knew that Shiro was there, so Shiro didn’t bother hiding his presence. Still, he wanted to give Zarkon a moment.

 

After all, Zarkon’s whole Universe just fell apart for the nth times. First, he and his wife died. Then when he was revived, he found out that his whole planet blew apart, his friends died and their entire planets destroyed, his counterpart was evil, and now he just found out that his wife was evil too.

 

“Tell me about your Earth”, Zarkon said, breaking the silence. Shiro was surprised about the topic of his question, but he wasn’t gonna make a fuss about it.

 

So he told Zarkon about his childhood home at Kutchan-chõ, Hokkaido. About the large garden behind his grandparents’ house, about the thick sheet of snow when winter came around. His grandparents used to have a large St. Bernard’s dog named Ichi, a huge thing that his four year old self could ride like a steed. Zarkon made confused noise about what a ‘dog’ was, so Shiro pulled up his fondest memory of him and Ichi playing in the snow.

 

Hilariously, Zarkon  _ hated _ snow.

 

“Oradis is— _ was _ in the equator, so I’ve never seen snow until my caretaker took me for a diplomatic trip to Dalvarik”, Zarkon reminisced. Briefly, the image of an adult Galra flashed in his mind. It was the same one with the one from Zarkon’s baby photo. “The ramp was slippery with ice and snow. I slipped and fell face first.”

 

That was a hilariously adorable image. Shiro could only imagine little Zarkon, bundled up in winter clothes so thick he could barely move his arms, and falling face first into the snow. He masked his laugh with a coughing fit.

 

“Is Dalvarik another Galran nation?” Shiro asked instead. 

 

“Yes. It's located in the mountainous area down the southern region, although they did have an off-planet colony. Everything in there was very… black-and-white”, Zarkon answered, before turning to face Shiro. “How did you know about Ziira?”

 

“Who?” Shiro blinked, before realizing who Zarkon was talking about. “Oh. Right.”

 

He took out the holo-projector out of his pocket and held it in his open palm. Zarkon’s eyes widened, recognizing the object. Gingerly, he wrapped his hand around it, so very carefully as if afraid that it would dissipate under his touch.

 

He turned it on with a click, and the photograph flared into existence. Zarkon let out a gasp and his shoulders started shaking as he reached for the Galra in the photo. The image fizzled out where his fingers touched it.

 

Shiro wondered if he should go. It seemed like a very private moment for Zarkon. Before he could decide, Zarkon turned to him again. “H-how…?”

 

“Turns out King Alfor got people to keep your stuff. He was going to return them to your people once they were done rebuilding, but there was never a chance”, Shiro explained. “They’ve been kept in the Castle for ten thousand years. Coran and Kolivan helped me to move them out of the storage and into your room.”

 

Zarkon shut his eyes, mouth opening and shutting as if he was grasping to find words. When he failed, he placed his hands on Shiro’s shoulders, looking down to him with indescribable emotions in his deep red eyes.

 

_ Huh _ . Shiro never noticed how red they were; like the color of fresh blood, like molten fire. Those were the eyes who had seen countless years and still his strength had not been eroded by time. Those were the eyes who saw death in the eye multiple times and somehow managed to claw his way out. Those were the eyes of a survivor, of a fighter, of someone who had done terrible mistakes and still fought with force and ferocity to fix them.

 

And those eyes, right now, were looking at him with such adoration that rivaled the brightness of a black hole.

 

Sometimes, in Shiro’s opinion, words were unnecessary; not when they could send each other images and feel each other’s emotions. When Zarkon leaned forward, Shiro’s eyes fell shut in anticipation.

 

Their foreheads touched gently. The texture of Zarkon’s crest felt hard against his skin, unyielding. It felt harder than wood and warmer than steel.

 

_ Galran kiss _ , Shiro’s mind supplied.

 

When they broke away, their bond was aglow, bright and golden. There was a soft, sudden purr of approval coming from the Black Lion. Shiro laughed.

 

So Kolivan was right; Zarkon had  _ something _ on him. How could he be so blind?

 

“Since when?” Shiro asked, a smile still stuck on his face.

 

“Since the beginning”, Zarkon answered. “Since I opened my eyes and saw you.”

 

Huh. Shiro wasn’t expecting that. “I thought you hated me. For taking the Black Lion from you.”

 

“I was  _ drawn  _ to you, but I couldn’t tell why. I was jealous and hurtful. I know better now.”

 

The bond, Shiro dimly realized. They were connected since the beginning; the connection that Bad-Zarkon didn’t have, and yet it connected him to Zarkon. Combine that with Zarkon’s own charisma, it was so easy for Shiro to fall for him.

 

“I didn’t want to say anything because of my grief for Honerva”, Zarkon said, as he pressed his forehead to Shiro’s once again. “I don’t want to make you feel that my feelings for you are secondary to my feelings for her.”

 

“That’s okay. I can wait until you’re ready”, Shiro whispered. As much as it pained him, he wanted to give Zarkon time to sort out his feelings for Honerva/Haggar. 

 

Even if it meant that he had to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> go check [my tumblr](https://xblackpaladin.tumblr.com/)!


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